Cowboy In The Crossfire(13)

"But--" She hesitated, a furtive glance toward the outside door, then the kitchen.

He sighed and placed his hands on her slight shoulders, resisting the urge to pull her against him, to comfort her...to lose himself in her touch. He buried the yearning. "Give me time to figure out how to help you without us all ending up in jail."

He waited, half expecting her to challenge him again. Her questioning blue gaze studied him, as if she were trying to read his heart. He didn't want her to look too closely. She'd shaken him to the core with her suspicions about his family's death. He may very well have failed them in more ways than he'd ever imagined.

He couldn't fail her and Ethan, too. He wouldn't.

With a light touch of her hand on his arm, she nodded, called out to Ethan and led him, still clutching the toy truck, into the kitchen. At least occasionally she knew when not to push.

Blake shrugged into his shearling coat and tugged down his Stetson, ignoring the fresh wave of grief that threatened to wash over him. He'd survived Joey's death knowing that accidents happen. But murder... Blake shoved the thought away. One fact remained: Amanda had been shot. She and Ethan were terrified.

He couldn't let himself get distracted. Not now.

Leo sat near the kitchen door, watching him. He detoured and grabbed his weapon as the crackle of frying bacon filtered through his house. Almost made the place homey, but Blake couldn't indulge in that dream.

He poked his head into the kitchen. "I'll be in the barn," he said, ignoring the familial picture of Amanda at the stove, Ethan playing at her feet. "I've turned on the intercom. It's voice-activated, so I'll hear you if you need me."

He had to find focus and clarity. For Kathy and Joey's memory. For Ethan and Amanda's safety.

Leo followed him out of the kitchen, his tail down, whining. "Stay." The dog's ears sank and Blake patted the animal's head. "Guard."

Alert, Leo headed back into the kitchen, giving Blake some piece of mind. The dog could have been a K-9. He was a born watchdog, and Blake needed all the help he could get.

Amanda was right about one thing: once Parris had run the plates, the fuse had been lit. As Blake stepped on the yard, the crisp cold was no longer dangerous. The winter sun was brighter than usual. Before long, the ice would be gone, and travel would get back to normal. The perps would come to Carder. To find her and kill her. She was unfinished business.

By sending Amanda here, Vince had brought murderers to Blake's town. If these cops had also killed his family, they would use anyone and do anything to get what they wanted. Which put Carder, and particularly his mom, the last of his family, at risk. At least she'd moved into town after his father died, unable to bear living in their ranch house. She'd be a little harder to track down, but not impossible.

He had to find a way to protect them all without bending the rules and becoming the cops he despised.

His feet crunched along the grass as he headed toward the barn. The moment he walked in, the ornery horse his father had loved for his wild and fiery temper started up. The chestnut danced around, flicked his head and glared at Blake. The SOB would bite anyone else who came near him. Even worse after his father died.

After a half hour of mindless chores, regret and strategizing, Blake knew he couldn't avoid the stallion any longer. He grabbed a flake of hay and eased toward the stall. The animal puffed a breath through his nose and rose on his hind legs, batting the air.

"He looks dangerous." Amanda's whisper filtered from behind.

Blake's heart skipped a beat at her voice. Utter aloneness had settled over him like a soggy, woolen blanket in this barn full of memories. The loss. The grief. Now, something inside of him longed to touch her, to turn to her. He'd wanted to hold her for longer than he cared to admit. He knew what her lips tasted like. He remembered so clearly when he'd come upon her under the mistletoe two years ago. Vince had egged him on, and she'd blushed, smiling, closing her eyes for a friendly kiss that had turned into so much more. When Blake had lowered his mouth to hers, the electricity between them knocked him over. He'd wrapped his arms around her. She'd parted her mouth under his.

Only the whoops and hollers had stopped him from sweeping her into a bedroom. One look at Vince's dark expression, though, and Blake had pushed the episode aside. He should do the same thing now. His first duty was to protect her and her son, not succumb to long-denied desires.

"He is dangerous. He doesn't like strangers." Blake shifted his body between her and Sugar. "Where's Ethan?"

"Asleep," she said softly, eyeing the snorting horse. "He just nodded off. I'm glad. He needed the rest. He didn't get much on the drive here."

"Or last night."

Blake studied her every movement, the straightening of her spine, the flash of frustration in her eyes, the challenging tilt of her chin.

"You could've left me with him. I'd have taken care of him."

"You needed the rest, too." Blake took in the dark circles under her eyes, but he couldn't let sympathy derail him. She hadn't been honest. She had to start. He needed to know more. "Ethan screamed in his sleep."

She jerked her head up, then rubbed the bridge of her nose. The bravado seeped out of her. Her cobalt eyes shone with unshed tears.

"He screamed in his sleep last night," Blake repeated. "About Vince."